The opening phase ended quickly, and the Umamusume's struggle for position slowly settled as well.
At the same time, Ascot Racecourse began to reveal its true fangs.
This famous world-class track of Great Britain began in front of the main grandstand, then passed through a gentle rightward slope, followed by an almost right-angled sharp turn to the right.
After that, hidden at the back of the course, there was a long uphill stretch that looked deceptively mild yet consumed an extreme amount of leg strength.
For every participating Umamusume, this was both the dividing line of stamina and the fiercest battlefield for tactical maneuvering.
And for Terimon, this was also the most important point in her chosen strategy.
During this section, which already consumed a tremendous amount of stamina, she would interfere with McQueen's rhythm, pressure her position, and force her to spend even more energy to maintain her current positional advantage.
Yes... at least for now, that was what Terimon believed.
"The runners have already passed the 800-meter marker in front of the main grandstand! The current leader is still Carefree. She is leading the pack at a very comfortable fast pace!"
"Half a length behind her is Fourfold Wheel..."
The commentator's voice rang out above the racecourse, broadcasting the situation live.
"Close behind them are Terimon and Mejiro McQueen. The two are still locked together, neither willing to yield even half a step!"
"And Sanglamore is steadily occupying the golden position in fifth. It seems she is still waiting for the right moment to arrive."
On the track.
"Tch."
McQueen glanced sideways at the burly figure once again forcing her way in from the outside.
In those eyes glowing with pure white afterlight, a barely perceptible chill finally flashed.
On this vast European racecourse, it was not as if she had never experienced physical confrontation.
Even before her expedition, during countless mock races against Folkqueen, she had already witnessed methods dirtier and more brutal than this.
In the Prix d'Ispahan and Prince of Wales's Stakes earlier, she had also encountered opponents whose elbowing tactics were extremely filthy.
Terimon's blocking was fierce, but to McQueen, it was too open and straightforward.
At the very least, it did not count as dirty.
Still, even a fly constantly buzzing beside one's ear was enough to irritate anyone.
All the more so when it targeted only her.
Every time McQueen tried to adjust her breathing and begin accelerating at her own rhythm, that musclebound Amazon would spend extra leg strength without hesitation to press in close.
With her shoulder, with her elbow, she tried to force McQueen out of the optimal running line.
"Hah..."
After avoiding another one of Terimon's little moves, the gray-haired girl exhaled softly, and her gaze returned to calm once more.
It was not that she could not shake Terimon off. But if she spent unnecessary stamina in the early-to-middle phase to forcefully break away, she would be playing straight into her opponent's hands.
She had extremely high confidence in her stamina, but confidence was not meant to be wasted like that.
"I'll let you... enjoy yourself for a little while."
Her long legs beat a steady rhythm against the turf as McQueen's figure flew lightly along the track. Her eyes narrowed faintly, like a crouching beast waiting for the moment to tear everything apart.
Behind her, in the Pace Chaser and Late Surger group, Generous quietly hid in the middle of the pack, her long golden hair blown back by the oncoming wind.
It revealed her smooth forehead and those eyes, blue as the sea.
Her breathing was steady and deep. The rapier at her waist swayed gently with the rise and fall of her body, yet it did not affect the fluidity of her movements in the slightest.
"As expected... tactics of this level could never affect her."
Generous's gaze passed through the figures of several Umamusume ahead and landed precisely on that pure white silhouette.
She could see it clearly. Though Terimon's harassment looked imposing, McQueen's steps had not fallen into the slightest disorder.
That almost instinctive ability to resist interference was nearly flawless.
She had repeatedly watched every race recording of McQueen: from the Central Classic Triple Crown and the Spring Tenno Sho to the Prix d'Ispahan after her expedition.
That was why she truly understood that McQueen's strongest weapon was her terrifying, bottomless stamina.
It was a blessing inherited from Central's strongest long-distance bloodline, combined with her own unparalleled talent and Chasing Light's targeted training and instruction.
No matter how fast the race pace became, no matter how intense the contest grew, she always seemed to have something left in reserve.
Trying to forcibly raise the pace and drag her down through a war of attrition over a distance of 2,400 meters?
That was almost impossible.
Perhaps with another 800 meters, there might still be a sliver of a chance.
"Still, Terimon is overthinking it."
Generous drew in a deep breath and sent oxygen through every limb.
Her battlefield had never been in the opening phase, nor in the middle phase.
That was also why she had chosen the most stamina-saving Late Surger running style, staying centered in the pack.
Bang!
A dull footfall echoed as Generous's horseshoe struck the turf, stamping a deep mark into the grass.
And as the blonde girl ran, the air around her seemed to gather toward her. A silent yet majestic power was quietly accumulating within her body, like the spring of a clock being tightened turn by turn.
Bzz.
If someone had been standing beside Generous at that moment, they would have been able to see it.
In the depths of this European overlord's pupils, a pale golden afterglow was flickering on and off like an unstable signal.
Each time it lit, a heart-stopping presence swirled around her.
...
Tap-tap-tap!
Time passed, and the pack of fourteen world-class Umamusume galloped down the straight.
Their footsteps were like a flood, shaking the entire racecourse.
"They've now passed the 1,400-meter marker! The race is about to enter the final phase!"
"The leader is still Carefree..."
"Terimon and Mejiro McQueen are close behind, with no change in position."
"Sanglamore seems to be starting her advance. The gap between her and Mejiro McQueen has narrowed slightly."
"...Generous is still waiting in the pack. Is she still not ready to make her move? Is her pace perhaps a little too slow?"
The commentator's soaring voice pushed the atmosphere of the racecourse to another new peak.
"It seems the second half of this race is destined to be turbulent!"
"Ooooooooooh!"
In the stands, the heartbeats of hundreds of thousands of spectators resonated with the dense hoofbeats on the course, which rang like war drums.
Soon, the race reached the final 800 meters.
Ascot's uphill stretch finally loomed before the Umamusume.
And among the front group, the situation was beginning to look somewhat unfavorable.
(End of Chapter)
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